


Obituary

by Nym



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nym/pseuds/Nym
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Obituary

Potter,

Great men die with mysteries wrapped all about them, like shrouds. Albus, in his way, reminds me that by the time this matters, it will not matter to me. That greatness is a condition reserved for the living and of little use to the dead. That preserving secrets beyond the grave is a futile act of self-serving foolishness. Not that he uses these words, you understand. 'A wise man values the truth, Severus'. 'Unburden yourself, Severus'.

Perhaps he forgets that we all leave our burdens behind us, eventually, along with our greatness. It is inevitable.

I picture my departure from this world. A small gathering of colleagues and acquaintances beside an open grave. They wear black. For once there are no House colours staining us. I wear a white shroud and watch them as I waver between departure and the journey. They are solemn, but nobody weeps. They have no cause. I look for you, but you are not there. You never weep.

If my words retain any importance after my death, it will not be these words. This is mere foolishness, to appease an old man who believes that souls find rest in forgiveness. That words have meaning. That hearts have a destiny.

Hearts do have a destiny; it is to stop. Eventually. Inevitable.

And so you read this. You will not be one of those wearing black by my graveside. Complicated by time and too much else, you and I. I think you know by now that it is your eyes that complicate me. You would know why? Gaze into the mirror and know that your mother looks back at you. That a cruel glance from you cuts twice as deep into anyone who knew her. I knew her. It was not enough. Your first glance lacerated me. Your first imagined kiss destroyed me.

Do you feel used? You have been. Will a parchment apology matter? I think not. I only put an end to the mystery of 'why'. I need but one shroud.

Hate me to my last breath and beyond. Hate me and savour greatness.

S.S.


End file.
